Snake Oil
by S.Duluoz
Summary: A former Legion slave and her twin brother rescue a traveling salesman (of sorts) from raiders and inadvertently become members of his medicine show. It's all fun and swindling until bad news drags up secrets from the past for everyone involved.
1. Yesterday Is Here

**Author's Note: **I don't own Fallout NV or associated characters; but I did make up the tribe and original characters. I loved Honest Hearts, and wanted to write about tribes being assimilated into Caesar's Legion. Stay tuned for more.

**Chapter 1 - Yesterday Is Here**

_"Well today is grey skies/tomorrow is tears/you'll have to wait till yesterday is here." - _Tom Waits

**2266 AD**

The Legion came for the Painted Shadows one morning in the rainy season. Out of the mist they appeared in a tide of red, cutting down the sleepy sentries and striking into the heart of the tribe's settlement within minutes. While it was a surprise for the Painted Shadows, it was just another story of yet another tribe being conquered by the Legion.

It followed the standard formula, as far as conquests went. Those judged unfit or too old to serve Caesar – men and women alike – were cut down, their bodies piled up and set ablaze, while those warriors that had survived the initial onslaught were crucified along the path to the valley itself. Food stores were plundered, weapons caches were looted, and living quarters destroyed.

Except for what the tribe had hidden in the caves above the village. Three contubernia had gone in to investigate, but had not returned. After conferring about it for a few minutes, the centurions decided to cut their losses and return home with the spoils of war. There was time enough to return and take care of the caves later.

And there were spoils. Not just weapons and supplies – there were slaves, almost one hundred. Lots of new soldiers for Caesar, as well as a promising group of females. They were tied in a long line, all of them, and marched slowly out of the canyon, back toward Flagstaff; back toward Caesar.

"Did you dispose of the whole tribe?" Caesar asked the centurions when they had returned and given their reports. Over their shoulders, the line of new slaves were arranged from one end of the parade ground to the other in orderly lines.

"No, sir." One of the centurions answered from his position on one knee before his leader. "But we did find where we believe the nest to be, sir."

Behind the throne, the Malpais Legate crossed his arms and smirked. "I told you I hadn't mistranslated."

Caesar glanced back at his second in command with something approaching a smile before turning back to the centurions. "Then you'll take a force back and exterminate whatever you find inside."

His words, as they echoed across the parade ground, caused a scuffle in the ranks of the new slaves. A girl, not more than sixteen, pushed her way through the ranks, dragging the others she was tied to with her. Still wearing tribal garb and with her black hair in a heavy braid falling across her shoulder, she looked up at the absolute ruler of the Legion with tears in her eyes.

Caesar held up a hand to stay his praetorian guards, looking down at the girl with mild interest. "Hmm…A mouse steps forward. Does the mouse wish to speak?"

The girl trembled with fear, but behind the tears in her eyes there was a spark of fire. "Spare my people – this is my request. For I and my people have been sold to be destroyed, killed and annihilated. If we had merely been sold as male and female slaves, I would have kept quiet, because no such distress would justify disturbing the king."*****

In the heartbeat of silence after she'd spoken, the Malpais Legate took a step forward. He'd recognized the quote, from his old life. "Edw-Caesar." He said softly, eyes fixed on the girl still quaking below them. "I'll deal with this."

"Of course." The leader of the Legion's eyes narrowed as his smile took on a razor's edge. "Of course."

* * *

*Esther 7:3-4, NIV


	2. Jockey Full of Bourbon

**Author's Note: I decided to take the story in a different direction, so I deleted my previous chapter. Sorry, but I actually really hated the previous chapter 2. Hopefully the new story is closer to what I had in mind when I originally started. Also, yes, there is a name in this chapter from the Train song "Following Rita." I just liked how it sounded.**

**Chapter 2 – Jockey Full of Bourbon**

_"And I've been drinking from a broken cup/Two pairs of pants and a mohair vest/I'm full of bourbon; I can't stand up." _- Tom Waits

**2281 AD**

"God dammit, Ellie!" The drunken man in the tuxedo yelled at the sky, flinging his arms wide and splashing whiskey down his sleeve. "Why'd you have to leave me alone in this godforsaken desert?" He stumbled, almost dropped the bottle, but caught himself and took another long pull, even managing to get most of it into his mouth this time.

Thirst slaked for the moment, the man continued lurching through the dust, voice rising and falling with each step. "Stupid woman! We were supposed to get rich! We had a – " Here he paused, a bit confused, belched, then went on. "—we had a Plan! Ellie! We had a Plan!"

His mood switched from angry to maudlin and he sank down against an outcropping of rocks, draining the last of the whiskey and throwing the empty bottle clumsily away from him. It shattered on the broken asphalt of the road, shards of glass glinting in the sun. "Oh Ellie," The man cried, wiping his nose with the filthy sleeve of his tuxedo. "Why'd you have to get religion and leave me? That stuff'll kill you. Religion."

The tirade dissolved into tears, the man putting his face on his knees and sobbing for all he was worth. While it was possible that he would've noticed the raiders sneaking up on him had he been looking in their direction, there was nothing he could do in his present state of inebriation. Except maybe pass out at them – he'd been hitting the bottle pretty hard.

The first round caught him clean through the shoulder, slamming him back against the rock. The second missed completely as he tried to scrabble out of the way, whimpering in pain as he put weight on his wounded arm.

He didn't get very far – one of the raiders had been sneaking up behind the rock with machete upraised. The man in the tux put up his good arm with a strangled squeak, squeeze his eyes shut and waited for the end. More gunshots sounded, ricocheting off of the rocks around him. A shard caught him in the temple, sending him out like a light.

All he could think as he sank into darkness was _Ellie, why'd you have to leave?_

The sound of running water trickled into his consciousness. A stream? Hmmm. And while it was hot, it wasn't unpleasantly so. A cool breeze was coming off the water. Certainly not the Hell he'd be told he'd find when he died. _Take that, Dad._ He thought, relaxing into a smile. _Looks like there's space in Heaven for this little lost lamb, after all._ Pain lanced through his head and shoulder as he tried to put his arms behind his head. Shit. Maybe this was Hell, after all. Nice surroundings, an eternity of being immobilized by pain.

"You're going to pull your stitches out." A woman's voice said sternly as soft hands pulled his arms down and rearranged something – bandages? – across both his shoulder and around his head. "You really awake this time, or just dreaming?"

He opened his eyes, wincing a little as the light hurt his eyes. Before his retinas fried themselves in the sun, he was able to glance around. Red rock walls soared up on either side of him, leaving only a tiny box of blue sky visible. And yes, there was a little stream next to him, and more green than he'd seen in years covering all available flat ground. "Oh god, maybe I did die and go to Heaven." He moaned, covering his eyes with his good hand.

"Nope, you're still alive and kicking, Mister Head Wound." The woman said, a smile apparent in her voice. "And you're probably hungry. Why don't you try to sit up and eat some soup?"

"Ugh…" The thought of food made him simultaneously nauseous and ravenous at the same time. "The head would says 'eat!' but the hangover says 'puke your guts up, you sonofabitch!'" Still, he allowed himself to be pulled gently upright and opened his eyes for the second time.

A woman squatted next to him, long black hair in a braid across her shoulder and a spark of fire in her dark eyes. Though she wasn't dressed in furs or feathers, the colorful tattoos up and down both arms pegged her as a tribal. The sarcastic part of him (the part that had got him kicked out of the ol' homestead) thought that perhaps there should be cherubs and a choir of angels singing as they locked eyes for the first time, but really all he could think of was Ellie. Stupid Ellie, leaving him to get shot and then rescued by an unknown tribal.

"I'm Kiva." She said, handing him a canteen of water. "Do you have a name, or do I just keep calling you Head Wound?"

"I've been called worse." A laugh jostled him, sending more pain through his head. But he put on a bright smile and stuck out his good hand, saying; "Elvis James McKay, disgraced first son and the fastest talker this side of New Vegas. Pleasure to meet you."

Kiva laughed in surprise. "Well, charmed, I'm sure. My twin brother Tim's out hunting now, but I'm sure you'll see him sooner or later. He's kind of hard to miss." She glanced behind her at the path leading out of the canyon, then turned to the fire, where a pot of soup was simmering. As she ladled a bowl out for him, she asked; "What brings you out to the middle of the desert dressed like you got lost on your way to a fancy dress party, anyway? Without even a weapon to defend yourself?"

"I had a .45 somewhere." Elvis answered, staring at his hands. "My caravan left me behind after my…traveling companion got religion." He shrugged, accepted the bowl of soup with a nod of thanks. "She's off near New Vegas now, I guess. Getting ready for salvation and all that."

"Sounds rough. Tim and I know how that goes." Again her eyes scanned the path into the canyon. "We've only got each other."

Sipping the soup – it was really quite good, he had to give her that – Elvis nodded. "Last of your tribe?"

"Yeah."

"Legion?"

"Who else is so good at mass murder?"

Before Elvis could speak again, he froze in fear. Above them, silhouetted in black against the red of the canyon, a terrifying shadow crept down the path toward them. He felt his mouth go dry as he raised an unsteady hand and pointed. "Don't make any sudden movements." He squeaked, voice barely above a whisper. "They can't see too well…maybe we can sneak away before it smells us."

Rather than being surprised, Kiva rolled her eyes and pushed Elvis back down. "I was going to tell you – that's Tim. My twin brother." As Elvis looked back and forth from the shadow to the woman in front of him, she added; "It's…it's a tribal thing."

Half incredulous half disbelieving, he asked; "So you speak…his language?"

"Well, yeah, of course." Behind her, the huge form of what Kiva had called her twin brother approached the edge of the camp and dropped a freshly killed Bighorner corpse. Kiva added; "But he speaks English, too." Before saying; "Hey Tim. This is Elvis James McKay."

The huge form nodded to the man across the stream, rumbling that it was a pleasure, and he, Tim, was glad that he, Elvis, was awake again, but now – his cavernous jaws opened into a huge yawn – he begged everyone's pardon, but he'd like to take a nap now. Snuffling to himself, he found a comfortable patch of grass near the fire and settled down to sleep.

At first, Elvis had been terrified, but now the beginning of an idea formed in his head. "Tell me, Kiva," his eyes lit up as he drank the rest of the soup and held out the bowl for more, "Have you ever been to New Vegas?"


	3. Rattle and Hum

**Chapter 3 – Rattle and Hum**

"_I'm like a preacher stealing hearts in a traveling show/For love or money, money, money…"_

– _U2_

**2281 AD**

Elvis' shoulder was healing nicely, but was still a bit stiff. He rolled it gingerly back and forth as he paced the camp, muttering precipitously under his breath. Sometimes he would pause as if listening, nod to himself, and continue. Other times he would throw his good arm wide and flash a million-cap smile, eyes staring at something before him only he could see. It looked to Kiva like he was rehearsing for something, though Tim thought it looked like he'd lost his mind.

They'd been watching him for ten minutes or so before he gave a sweeping bow, flipped the blonde hair out of his eyes, and took a seat at the fire. "Need any help with getting dinner ready?" He asked as if prancing around the canyon talking to an invisible audience was completely normal.

"What did you do before wandering drunk into the desert?" Kiva asked carefully, eying Elvis sideways while Tim sliced meat on the other side of the fire.

That bright smile flashed again as Elvis laced his fingers over his crossed knee and leaned back. "Now I'm only being honest with you because you saved my life. Most people have to find out by seeing me in action."

Tim grumbled that if Elvis was a man-whore, he didn't want to hear about it. Though it would explain both the tuxedo and the drinking. Kiva could only laugh. It was clear she'd been thinking the same thing.

"Oh you're a funny…man, Tim." Elvis shook his finger, then leaned back again. "No, no, I wasn't a man-whore. I used to be a traveling salesman, of sorts. We used to have the best pitch, Ellie and I. Back in New Reno we raked in the caps. After we decided to try our luck in New Vegas, Ellie and I came to a…parting of the ways." A wistful sigh escaped him. "Oh Ellie. No one could help me work a crowd like her."

"She's the one that…what did you say? Got religion." Said Kiva, handing him bowl and ladling fresh soup into it. "So…what, did she join up with the New Canaanites?"

Elvis all but dropped his bowl and waved his hands earnestly. "No no no no, not the New Canaanites. No, it appears the cult is going to shoot themselves to the moon, or some such. She's a ghoul." He added. "It's a ghoul cult. Don't know why she'd give up life on the road for robes and religion – that stuff is nothing but bad for you."

"Sounds like you miss her a lot." Kiva patted his hand. "I'm sorry she left. What are you going to do now?"

"Well funny you should ask me that." In a flash, the sunny, freewheeling grin was back. "I've been doing some thinking and…well, I think this time I've hit upon a goldmine. Something that will put Elvis James McKay back on the map. But…" He leaned forward, eyes darting excitedly from Kiva to Tim and back again. "I'm going to need your help."

The twins looked hesitantly at each other. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Step right up, step right up, folks! You don't want to miss an opportunity like this!" Elvis strode back and forth on the rocky outcropping on the edge of town he'd chosen as a stage. Already a small crowd of townsfolk were gathered, looking curiously up at the man in the tuxedo as he whirled and shuffled and smiled hugely as he continued to talk.

"Life in the Wastes is rough, ladies and gentlemen. Radiation in our water, in our food, and even leaking out of the Earth! And the minute you get that under control, along comes a group of raiders, trying to shoot you in the head over a fistful of caps and steal off with your daughter." He paused to wink at a pretty girl in the audience, who blushed and looked away.

Elvis leapt onto the large sheet-covered steel crate Tim had set up in the early morning hours and went on with his speech. "If radiation and raiders weren't enough, now there are giant animals moving into the Mojave, making it hard to even get fresh water in the mornings!" The cage below him rattled threateningly, but he just flashed that showman's smile and produced a glass bottle from below his jacket and held it up.

"Allow me to show you the solution to your problems, hardy wasteland gentleman and lovely wasteland ladies!" The liquid shone like a ruby as Elvis raised it above the heads of the crowd, sending shards of faint red light across the black fabric of his tuxedo. "Stolen from the deepest vaults of the Enclave's secret files and pieced together by yours truly, I give you Elvis James McKay's Miracle Elixir!"

Before the crowd had any time to react, Elvis had jumped back to the boulder shelf and continued on with his spiel, spinning a cocoon around his audience with a torrent of words. "Radiation poisoning will be a thing of the past! Take one tablespoon before bed and feel the rads simply melt away! Problem with raiders? Not anymore! Paint an X above your door and the raiders will simply melt away." Another smile, another wink as he scanned the crowd. They still seemed skeptical, but were slowly becoming convinced. Time for the icing on the cake.

"And are you afraid of traveling to the next town over? Afraid of those terrifying monsters that stand between you and those shining lights of New Vegas?" He'd been moving back across the boulders toward the steel crate, still brandishing the bottle. "With Elvis James McKay's Miracle Elixir, even the deadliest monsters will fail to notice you!"

With a flourish, Elvis yanked the sheet off of the crate and took a leap-step backwards as the massive form of Tim slammed against the bars, snarling like the crazed monster the crowd through he was. The people in the front row gave out a few strangled screams and scrabbled backward into the arms of those behind them. Even Elvis, despite having traveled and had several rather interesting conversations with the person in the cage, felt a pang of fear go through him as he, too, took another jump farther along the rock shelf.

He recovered himself quickly, and put the smile back on his face. "Have no fear, ladies and gentlemen! The beast before you is contained in a cage built by the Enclave itself! You are one-hundred percent safe, ladies and gentlemen. I guarantee it! And now I need a volunteer! The bravest of the brave to test the wonders of Elvis James McKay's Miracle Elixir! Just one volunteer, ladies and gentlemen! Who among you is heroic enough to take up the challenge?"

Scanning the crowd, Elvis spotted a woman in a caravan guard's outfit with her dark hair in a braid over her shoulder and a spark of fire in her eyes. "You, madam! You look like you've faced creatures like this on your wide travels across the wastelands! Care to test your mettle?"

The woman smiled and shouldered her way through the crowd. "I'm warning you, Mister McKay," She said as she climbed up to the rock shelf. "If that thing get out, I'm going to shoot it in the face."

"No fear, madam." Elvis bowed deeply, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he stood up and winked over his shoulder at the crowd. "Just take a sip of Elvis James McKay's Miracle Elixir and watch the magic happen!"

As Elvis uncorked the bottle with a flourish and handed it to her, a hush came over the watching crowd while Tim lunged against the bars of his cage and roared. They held their breath as the woman took a large drink of the ruby red elixir and passed the bottle back to Elvis. "Now, ma'am, step up to the cage. You will be one hundred percent fine, I promise."

What felt like an eternity – but was really only about thirty seconds – passed with only the sound of Tim's frenzied snarls. Elvis scanned the crowd, waiting for the appropriate level of tension to build before breaking the silence.

Finally, he licked his lips and said in a voice soft yet pitched to carry to the people standing at the back; "All right ma'am. Step forward, and watch."

As the woman stepped forward, Tim lost all interest in her, focusing instead on Elvis and the other people in the crowd. It was like he didn't even see her as she walked up to the bars of the cage. Silence still reigned as she slowly reached out and ran a hand along Tim's enormous jaw.

"There you have it, folks!" Elvis took Kiva's hand and pulled her away from the cage and into another bow. "Elvis James McKay's Miracle Elixir! It cures ills and protects you from the demons of the waste!"

As he whisked the sheet back onto the cage, the crowd lined up, eagerly clamoring for bottles of the Elixir. Elvis grinned internally. It looked like today they were going to make a killing.


End file.
